


Take Me Through the Darkness

by squidscarf



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Allies To Lovers, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Constipation, F/M, Gotham City is Terrible, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Me: I hate dark fics, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Organized Crime, Original Character-centric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Siblings, Substance Abuse, Uneasy Allies, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, also me: the aforementioned tags, idiots to lovers, light-hearted angst(?), no beta we die like jason todd, with varying results
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-21 12:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30022005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidscarf/pseuds/squidscarf
Summary: Sunny Franklin’s last encounter with Batman ruined her life. Her first encounter with Red Hood might save it.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	1. A Man After Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my fanfic where everything’s made up and the canon doesn’t matter. That’s right, I’m treating canon the same way that the writers at DC comics do by just doing whatever the hell I want with no regard as to whether it makes any sense.
> 
> This story isn’t based on any particular canon. Rather, I’ve created an amalgamation of my favorite bits of various batman adaptations with a healthy dose of fanon. So, have fun parsing that out lol
> 
> Please be mindful of the warnings and tags; this fic focuses on a character who experiences graphic violence. Sexual violence is only ever implied, but physical violence is frequently depicted in detail. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, you’re free to bow out! Read responsibly and take it easy :)

Sunny spent far more time lingering in dark alleyways than any citizen of Gotham reasonably should. Being in the alley was far preferable to being inside of the warehouse, where her boss and his nasty associates were brokering some kind of arms deal. She tightened her blazer around her body to ward off the icy breeze that swept through the alley. The chauffeur uniform that Black Mask liked for her to wear wasn’t practical for cold or rain, the only two kinds of weather that Gotham ever seemed to have. It wasn’t practical for running, or fighting - hell, half the time her skirt rode up to the top of her thighs while she was just driving. Still, it was better than nothing. With any luck, the deal would be done soon and she’d be back in the comfort of a warm car with heated seats.

The metal of the car keys jingled as she toyed with them in her hand, fidgeting. The cold weather made her knee stiff; not the one she needed for driving (Roman had made sure of that) but it would hinder her if she needed to run. Deals like this were never exactly _safe_. There was always an element of danger that came with an illegal sale, especially when it was something like guns, which the Bats liked to keep a close eye on. Roman had seemed confident that the deal would be quick and easy, but his word meant nothing to Sunny. She shifted on her feet, bending her stiff knee in an attempt to loosen it up. One of these days, she was going to convince Roman to let her wear pants, so she could finally keep her legs warm and stop ripping her tights. 

In the back of her head, she itched for a cigarette. Instead, she ran her thumb over the patch on her wrist. It was enough to curb the withdrawals, but for calming her nerves, nothing compared to the real thing. She’d dumped her last pack in the toilet a week ago in a desperate bid to gain some semblance of control over her life without cutting the hair she’d tried so hard to grow out. It was always the first thing to go in a personal crisis, and she’d finally convinced herself that she liked her hair too much and cigarettes too little to not make a genuine effort to quit. Aside from still having her hair, all that quitting seemed to do was tempt her to find some other unhealthy coping mechanism to turn to; she had yet to meet a substance that she didn’t abuse and it was frankly a miracle that she’d had the sheer force of will to quit. Still, she was proud of the last week that she’d spent on the wagon. 

The loud, unmistakable bang of a gunshot rang through the air. She ducked on instinct, hand shooting to her side where she had her own gun tucked in a holster strapped to her thigh. More shots rang out; leaving her gun in its place, she jolted into action, sprinting down the alley towards the car. 

Years of high-stakes driving meant that her hands were steady as she jammed the key in the ignition, bringing the car roaring to life beneath her. She shifted into drive, foot hard on the breaks, and kept the doors unlocked. And then, with both hands gripping the steering wheel, she waited. There were more gunshots, some shouting. _That son of a bitch better not die in there,_ she thought. If Roman Sionis died, she wasn’t sure whose hands she’d be passed to. Maybe Penguin, who’d been the second-highest bidder back in the day. Maybe Zsasz, who Black Mask was paying to be his right-hand-man as of late, would keep her. Regardless, after spending the last five years in Black Mask’s service, she wasn’t keen to lose the safety and influence she’d clawed her way up to get. 

The door to the warehouse burst open, bathing the alleyway in light. In the rear view mirror, Sunny could see Roman stumble through the door and come sprinting towards the car. Behind him, Victor Zsasz calmly walked backwards through the door, a gun in each hand, lighting off rounds as he walked. Finally, he seemed content that they weren’t being followed; he placed one gun back in his suit jacket and approached the car in a brisk walk. 

Roman threw himself into the backseat, peeking through the back window at the warehouse. 

“Hurry the hell up!” he snapped, glaring at Zsasz as he made his way to the passenger seat. Sunny kept her eyes forward, at where her headlights illuminated the mouth of the alleyway. As soon as Zsasz had taken his seat and she heard the passenger door slam shut, she shifted her foot to the gas pedal and slammed it down. 

The engine roared, wheels squealing for a moment until they found purchase and sent the car careening forward through the alley. This was Sunny’s specialty, navigating Gotham’s streets at high speed, swerving through traffic like a blade through butter. 

“Damn it!” Roman slammed a gloved fist against the leather seat. “I’ve been preparing this shipment for months. Haven’t I been preparing this shipment for months?” 

“Sure have, boss,” Zsasz responded, focused on the mirrors to make sure they weren’t being followed. 

“What happened back there?” Sunny asked, not daring to glance away from the road for a second. Roman huffed, drawing a hand down the face of his mask. 

“It’s that damn Red Hood! First he steals half my dealers out from under me, now he’s interrupting my shipments!” 

Okay, so not Batman. Never seeing him or the Batmobile again was really her primary concern. Red Hood was a relatively new figure in Gotham, after making a rather explosive arrival in the criminal underworld two years ago. It had seemed unclear at first where his loyalties were - he seemed to exist in a grey area, making enemies with Gotham’s crime bosses _and_ with the Bats. These days, Sunny heard rumors that he was running around with a red bat across his chest, broadcasting very clearly whose side he was on. 

(It wasn’t the same side that Sunny was on.) 

She almost paid no mind to the high-pitched rev of a motorcycle until Zsasz sighed and began rolling down his window. 

“We’ve got company.” 

He leaned halfway out of the window, shooting out behind them. Sunny glanced up at the rear view mirror; Red Hood was on their tail, coming up on them fast. She cursed. 

“Fucker’s on a motorcycle,” she muttered, swerving off the main road at the next open intersection. 

Seeing one of the Bats in person had her adrenaline running the way that high-speed chases hadn’t in years. His red helmet gleamed in the neon lights that lined the streets. It was completely featureless, except for the black-and-white narrowed eyes beneath a sculpted scowl. This had to end quickly, before he had the chance to call for backup. Motorcycles were hard to lose, but Black Mask hadn’t forced her into working as his driver just because she had a pretty face. 

Taking tight turns on rain-slicked streets was a calculated risk. The motorcycle wobbled on the turn into an alleyway, and she’d watched intently through the rear view mirror to see the bike slip out from under him, only to watch him recover it. She sank down in her seat a little at the sound of bullets punching into the metal of the car, each bang of Zsasz’s gun making her ears ring. 

“Lose him, Sunny!” 

“I’m trying!” she snapped, eyes frantically jumping between the rear view mirror and the road in front of her. She looked up just in time to see Red Hood swerve to the side. The roar of the motorcycle told her that he was gaining on them, coming up to the driver’s side where he was better shielded from Zsasz. She cursed, swerving sharply in an attempt to catch him between the car and the wall. He pulled back just in time, and instead the car hit a metal trash bin with a bang. 

He was right on their ass, he could’ve jumped from the motorcycle onto the trunk if he wanted. 

...ah, hell. She wouldn’t put it past him. 

She couldn’t let him get the chance. Increasing the pressure of her foot on the gas pedal, she narrowed her eyes in focus, glancing between the street and the mirror. It was a tricky maneuver, and required a careful managing of their distance. Luckily, Sunny was a professional. 

The tires screeched against the wet pavement when she stomped on the breaks. Red Hood swerved sharply to avoid crashing into them - too sharply. The bike wobbled and slipped out from beneath him, sending him tumbling and rolling across the alley. She moved her foot back to the gas pedal almost immediately, before the car had the chance to lose too much momentum. For a split second, the car peeled out with a squeal, before they finally sped out of the alley. 

Her knuckles were white from the force of her grip on the steering wheel, heart drumming beneath her ribcage. It wasn’t until she saw Zsasz duck back inside of the car and roll up the window that tension flooded out of her muscles and the full weight of her adrenaline rush set in. She held onto the steering wheel like a lifeline, not quite ready to confront the shaking of her hands. In the backseat, Roman let out a whoop. He leaned forward in the seat to squeeze Sunny’s shoulders. 

“That’s my girl!” he cheered. “Isn’t she brilliant, Zsasz? Worth every penny I paid for her.” 

“She’s great, boss,” Zsasz agreed, in his usual deadpan tone. Their words made her stomach clench uncomfortably; she felt like she was going to puke. 

The rest of the drive back to Roman’s place was calm. Whatever conversation he had with Zsasz on the way back was tuned out into a dull buzz in her ears. She navigated the streets of Gotham on autopilot, completely zoned out, until they finally reached the building that housed his penthouse. The sound of doors opening and closing didn’t register. Only a bark of her name snapped her back to reality, and she looked over her shoulder to see Roman standing outside of the car, peering in at her through the open door. His eyes were narrowed into a scowl behind his mask. 

“Are you even listening to me?” he snapped. “I hate it when you don’t listen to me.” 

“What do you want?” she bit out. 

“I said that I’m proud of you, so come upstairs.” 

His words felt like worms inching their way up her spine, and the sick feeling in her stomach grew worse. She swallowed thickly, clenching her jaw before giving him a look that she hoped was sweet and regretful, speaking with a voice that dripped with honey. 

“I’m on the rag.” 

Black Mask physically recoiled. “Ew! Fine, go home. Make sure you wear perfume tomorrow.” 

She rolled her eyes, turning back to face forward in her seat as he slammed the door behind him. Pulling away from the curb, a shaky breath escaped her. Her muscles had held out just long enough for Roman and Zsasz to be gone before giving out on her, and now she was trembling. She pulled into the below-ground garage beneath the building, flashing her ID at the attendant. When the car was parked, the engine off, she leaned forward to rest her head against the steering wheel and close her eyes. 

Silence. No gunshots, no car horns, no revving vehicles. The car was completely still beneath her, not rumbling and sending vibrations through her body like shockwaves. After several long, slow breaths, her hands felt steady again, and she felt confident that when she tried her stand her legs wouldn’t buckle beneath her. 

* * *

Surviving in Gotham required a careful balance of caution and brazenness. Anyone born and raised in the city knew to stick close to the shadows, far enough that no one could reach out and drag you in, but close enough to blend in and disappear if things around you turned sour. It was a dangerous life, like living at the edge of a cliff. But in this city, anyone standing too far into the light was just as much of a threat as someone standing too far in the dark. After all, bathed in all that light, anyone could see you. Weren’t you scared of the kinds of eyes that could set their sights on you? 

Sunny hated walking home on winter nights. Limping down the sidewalks, she felt like an injured antelope lingering at the back of the herd. When the monsters came, she’d be the first to be picked off. The subway stopped just down the block from her apartment, but after the chase like tonight’s, she decided to get off two stops further down the line and backtrack. Every so often, she’d glance up at the rooftops, expecting to see two familiar silhouettes staring down at her in disappointment and disdain. But every time she looked, there was no one there. 

Still, she ducked into a familiar restaurant, nodding politely at the half-asleep fry cook as she shuffled through the kitchen. The warm air felt delightful on her knee, but it was far too brief to loosen it up. She shouldered open the back door, closing it quietly behind her and turning to navigate the dark alleys. 

As a kid, she’d been terrified of the alleyways; she spent more than enough time on her rooftop, peering down into the side streets and alleys around her building. She’d seen the kinds of things that happened if you ventured just a bit too far into the shadows. But she knew this route well, and the weight of the gun on her thigh made her feel just comfortable enough to risk it. Better to stay shrouded in the dark, to avoid the eyes of the Bats, or one of Black Mask’s enemies, or anyone else who might be a little too interested in a young woman walking the empty streets of Gotham alone. 

Maybe it was naïve, but she hoped that Gotham’s criminals would know that a woman walking alone through a dark alley in this city was doing so because she wasn’t afraid of being fucked with. 

Slipping through a loosely-chained fence, she finally approached the back door of the building next door to hers. Once the heavy metal door was closed behind her, she paused, breathing on her hands and rubbing them together to warm them. It was freezing tonight, and she knew that as soon as her knee warmed up enough to stop being numb, it was going to fucking ache. The back hallways of this building were unreasonably confusing; even after months of sneaking into her apartment building this way, they still turned her around. Eventually, she found the door that adjoined this building to hers. It was never kept locked, even though it had a sign that said it was, and led into a hallway behind the laundromat in her building. The sound of laundry machines running on the other side of the wall was the best thing she’d heard all night. 

She was home. There was no one to be on guard for, no eyes to follow her path up the stairs. She all but dragged her sagging body up to the fourth floor. Her place wasn’t nice, straddling the border between the Bowery and Park Row. Gotham suffered the same affliction of most other big cities in the world, charging far too much for far too little. This apartment was the nicest thing that Black Mask was willing to pay for. It was a grimy little studio apartment, with a tiny kitchen and an even smaller bathroom. Sunny didn’t need much - hell, she didn’t have much - but it would’ve been nice to live somewhere that didn’t feel stained and filthy even after all of her attempts to clean. 

Shutting the door behind her, she flipped the deadlock and leaned her back against the door. Nights like this didn’t come often, despite her boss’s prominence. When they did come around, the reminder that this was her life and she had no way out was like a sucker punch to the gut. She rubbed her burning eyes, shuffling down the hallway towards the kitchen to set down her phone and shrug off her blazer. Maybe because she was too tired, or just because before now she’d always felt safe in her apartment, she didn’t feel the gaze following her across the room. 

“You know, you’re not an easy person to follow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Here’s this. I’m posting it before I have the chance to convince myself that it’s bad 😬
> 
> Thanks for checking this out. If this chapter made you Think A Thought, please write it down in the little comment box below :) especially if it was positive! That would be rad. I’ve written nearly ten chapters to follow this. I have no idea where this story is going, I’m just kind of letting the characters take me there, but so far I’m really happy with how it’s going and really excited to show people! So if you like this and would like to read more, please let me know.


	2. I’m Laughing Through My Tears

Sunny had her gun drawn and leveled before she finished turning around to face the figure in the window. Red Hood drew his gun just as fast. They stood in a standoff for a long moment, facing each other at opposite sides of the room. He filled up the entire frame of her window, blocking out the dim streetlights. His words finally registered in her head: _you’re not an easy person to follow._  


She swallowed dryly. “Did you ever stop to consider that maybe that’s on purpose?”

“Put the gun down.” His voice was hard, unsettling through the modulator of his helmet. “I just wanna talk.”

“You followed me across town just to _talk?_ ”

“Yes,” he bit out. “I watched you limp pathetically down the street, so I know that I have size _and_ speed on you. So put down your gun.”

She wavered, hand twitching almost indiscernibly. He was right, but she wasn’t inclined to give in yet. Maybe if she had a semblance of an idea about why he wanted to talk to _her_ specifically, but she had nothing. Black Mask was his target. If he had followed her here, then he must have seen where she dropped him off. So why was he here?

“What do you want?”

“To talk.”

She huffed shakily. “About what?”

For a moment, he was silent. She wished she could see the expressions crossing his face; she could feel his gaze on her, looking past layers she didn’t even know she had. In the stillness, every tiny tremble of her body felt like an earthquake. She tried to stare him down, to look through his mask like he was looking through her. The mask gave nothing away, just the same fierce scowl. 

“I want information on your boss,” he said finally. She almost burst out laughing. 

“You - you want me to squeal on my boss? Are you fucking insane?” Her shoulders shook, frantic chuckles bubbling past her lips. “Do you realize the kind of target that would put on me?”

“Get me information that’ll take him down, and I’ll consider you under my protection.”

“But only once he’s in jail?” Sunny swallowed thickly. Tremors shook her entire body. Adrenaline, terror, she couldn’t be sure. Keeping herself still, keeping her aim true, felt monumental, like her bones were gone and she was holding her body up through sheer force of will alone. She shook her head. “Sionis has been to prison before, that’s never stopped him from coming back.”

“I know. That’s why I want your help.” He shifted on the windowsill to face her fully, gun still aimed between her eyes. She took a step back, knocking into her fridge. “I want to take him out for good.”

She could see the silhouette of her gun waver. 

“For good?”

He nodded once, slowly. Her mouth felt dry, heart racing in her chest. 

She’d thought of getting rid of Black Mask before. Lying awake in the middle of the night, when nothing about her was hers, not even the bed she lay in, she’d think about it. She’d turn her head and stare at him, peacefully asleep, and her hand would twitch. It wasn’t too far to reach for her torn clothes, to find her gun and pull it from its holster. He wouldn’t even know it had happened. But that wasn’t how she wanted it to end for him. She wanted him to stare up at her with the same terror he’d put in her eyes, the same fear that came from knowing exactly what was about to happen to you and being powerless to stop it. He didn’t deserve anything kinder. 

It was just a fantasy, a pretty picture that distracted from the living hell that her life had become. Every single time, the idea was comforting. She would cling to it, and then suddenly she would open her eyes and return to reality and it would crumble. The solace would turn sour in her gut once her logical brain overpowered the fearful, primal instinct. Fantasizing about killing someone... Is that who she was now? Is that what this life had turned her into? Once the rage and pain had passed, she’d tear herself apart trying to understand what was right. Was it wrong if it was for self-defense? Could it really be self-defense if some part of her would be _happy?_ Was she ever really a good person, anyways? _Could_ she be? She’d keep herself awake all night wondering and wondering, and she’d never move. The uncertainty paralyzed her. But there were some things that she _did_ know.

She knew that if she killed Black Mask, the world would collapse on her. The gangsters who were loyal to him would hunt her. The bidders from all those years ago would come crawling out of the woodwork to find her. In the ensuing power vacuum, the city would fall into chaos. And trying to escape her problems by leaving Gotham had only ever made her problems worse. She was trapped.

Unless she helped Red Hood. If he was true to his word, if he would keep her under his protection...she could get out of this life for good. She could get out, and there would be someone to stop the city’s underworld from dragging her back in. He was throwing her a lifeline - at gunpoint, sure, but it was better than what anyone else had ever offered her with a gun to her head.

This could be a way out. Her _only_ way out. All she could think was that she may never get a chance like this again. She lowered her gun.

“I’m listening.”

“Put the gun on the floor.”

Her gut twisted, half of her brain screaming that this was a trick even as she knelt carefully to place the gun on the scratched, uneven wood. She held her hands carefully aloft to show that she wasn’t holding anything else, wasn’t going to reach for anything. She half expected him to tell her to put her hands on her head so he could slap some cuffs on her and haul her in. For a moment, she convinced herself that he was going to turn her in. She’d be handed over to the police, and then Black Mask would have her killed before she could even show her face in court. 

“Good. Kick it over to me.”

She did. Keeping his gun trained on her, he carefully shifted off of the windowsill and further into the apartment, leaving one foot braced on the window seat. He bent to pick up her gun and slipped it into his waistband. When he stood to his full height, both feet on the floor now, he was much taller and broader than she’d realized. He gave her a slow once-over. Then, he nodded. 

“You made the right choice, Sunny.”

She frowned, relaxing slightly. “How do you know my name?”

“I’d be a pretty shit vigilante if I could follow you to your apartment without figuring out who you are.” 

She huffed, and shook her head. “Whatever. What do you want to know?”

Red Hood seemed to relax a bit; he leaned back against the wall beside the window seat, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Tell me more about tonight’s shipment.”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “Some kind of arms deal, I don’t know the details. I just drive the car.”

“Who else was there tonight?”

She sighed.

“Look. I don’t work for Black Mask because I _want_ to. I’ve spent the last five years trying not to get involved in whatever the hell he does.” She shifted on her feet. “But I want to help you. If you give me some time, I’ll start paying attention. I’ll listen when he makes me sit in on stuff, try to get information out of the other gangsters. He trusts me, he never tries to hide things from me. After all -” she chuckled shakily, a little sardonically. “Who would I tell?”

“Hm.” He was still relaxed, leaned casually against the wall, but he examined her for a moment. “Okay. And what do you want in return?”

“Just...” she clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides. “Just promise to protect me.”

“A dead informant doesn’t do me any good.”

“No - not just while we’re doing this. After, too. There are...there are people who will come looking for me when Black Mask is gone. If I’m going to stick my neck out for you, I want to make sure I’m out for good.”

He tilted his head slightly, apparently observing her. She crossed her arms over her chest for good measure. 

“Like who?”

“Penguin, maybe. The Falcones. Pretty much anyone who’s pissed off Batman at some point.”

“Really now?” He leaned forward slightly. “What did you do that made you such a hot commodity?”

“Once upon a time I was just a small time getaway driver. One night we hit up a bodega. The rookie screwed up. Someone died. Batman got involved. Not a lot of people in this city can outrun the Batmobile, but...” she shrugged listlessly, eyes trailing away from his gaze. “I guess I’m good at my job.”

He snorted quietly. 

“ _Yeah._ I’m familiar.”

There was an apology on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it. He seemed to consider her for a moment, before nodding.

"Toss me your phone."

She grabbed her phone off of the counter and tossed it the short distance across the room to him. “I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking,” she muttered. “If he realizes I'm spying for you, I'm fucking dead.”

"He won't catch you," Red Hood said with an easy confidence that only served to deepen her frown. "This ain't my first rodeo. Black Mask's empire is going to come crumbling beneath his feet, and he won't have a clue that it's all because of you."

It was a vivid image in her mind, seeing his eyes past the dark rim of his mask, slowly filling with horror at the realization of what she'd done. Finally feeling the powerlessness, the dread, the sheer terror of being utterly helpless. Then it was back again, that sick sense of glee, that dread that she was actually a much worse person than she told herself she was. This time it felt a little less like acid in her stomach and a little more like resolve. All of her uncertainty led to inaction, and this life was going to kill her if she didn’t do something to fight back. One day, she could ponder over questions of morality. For now, she had to survive. 

“No.” She looked up slowly, realization dawning that she’d said the word out loud. Her eyes met the glaring white lenses of his mask. “If we do this - if this works - I want him to know. I want him to know it was _me_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments so far!! The response has been really exciting and motivating :) I’m going to try and post every Saturday, and hopefully I’ll be able to keep up a good pace writing so I don’t run out of chapters at some point. I guess we’ll see. 
> 
> This used to be my least favorite chapter, but I rewrote a bunch of it last night and now I’m pretty happy with it! And I’m really excited to show you what happens from here :) Please leave a comment and let me know what you thought!! 😁😁


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